Death of an Ideal

The lines of right and wrong used to be so clear...

Paint your thoughts on the winds of time.
Tears that cannot be shed
Smother the memories of what once was
Let the underground radio
Blare the news of the war run amok

Who examines the peacekeepers?
The ones who move freely from hidey hole to majestic tower?
These zealots and vipers proclaiming what is and must be?
Again, the quest for valor ends in
One more coffin in an unmarked grave.


Line count:  10
Format:  Free verse
Prompt:  Use every letter of the alphabet at least once.
Contest:  Daily Poem, April 10